


Profound

by darkforetold



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3354209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkforetold/pseuds/darkforetold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cas forgets about Valentine's Day, Dean tries to pretend it doesn't matter. Cas makes it up to him in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Profound

Dean stood frozen in the hallway. He listened. Barely breathed. No sounds came from either direction. More importantly, no sign of _Sam_. He took a deep breath and plunged into the hallway that led to his bedroom, tiptoeing as if the bunker were Hell and Alastair was on his tail. If he tripped, it was fucking over. The tray he was holding would fall out of his hands, crash to the floor, and send Sam running. His moose of a brother would find him there, picking up the pieces of Cas' failed Valentine's Day breakfast. Worse, he'd never hear the end of it. They'd be in a nursing home for washed-up hunters, and Sam would still be laughing about the day Dean had made Cas breakfast in bed. For Valentine's Day, of all days. A day he swore he hated and said didn't matter. 

Every clink of jostling plates and glasses made him cringe. Gingerly, he nudged the bedroom door open, slipped inside, and closed it with his foot. He breathed a sigh of relief and shuffled over to the bed, setting down the tray as carefully as possible. His hands trembled with freedom, and he let his thumping heart settle before daring to sit on the bed himself. He would've slipped under the covers, but Cas had them wrapped around him like a cocoon, as if he were a caterpillar waiting to turn into a butterfly. Since Cas had given up his Grace to cure Dean of the Mark of Cain, Cas slept all night, every night. No nightmares. Just peace—and snoring.

Cas snuffled in his sleep when Dean brushed hair from his forehead. Smiled when Dean touched his cheek. Dean bent down to kiss his lips and was met with sleepy blue eyes. That smile got bigger, literally melting his heart in his chest. If he felt any fuller, any more in love, he'd probably burst.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean smiled and whispered, "Hey," before sweeping another kiss over his lips. "I made something for you."

Cas rubbed at his eyes and peeked out from his cocoon. There, on the bed, was a tray full of his favorite things. Two glasses of orange juice balanced each side, with a red rose in a vase as its centerpiece. A plate of two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (topped with slices of strawberries cut into hearts, of course) sat beside Cas' favorite bee mug, filled with his favorite coffee and hazelnut creamer. It was enough to make Cas inch out of his nest, take a closer look and smile even wider. That smile took his breath away for the hundredth time. Cas' wild bed hair... Dean made sure to stop himself before the situation in his jeans got out of control.

"What's all this for?"

"Valentine's Day."

He regretted it as soon as he'd said it. Cas narrowed his eyes like he didn't understand, then when he did, they flew open wide. In shock. Like his Dad, God, had finally come home after all these years. Cas tensed immediately and whispered, "Oh," like he'd forgotten—and he had. It was written all over his face. 

"Dean, I—"

"Hey, it's okay. It's just some stupid Hallmark bullshit. Doesn't matter." Dean grabbed a sandwich. "Let's eat." 

They spent breakfast together in silence.

***

That afternoon, Dean found himself alone in the kitchen, frowning over an empty coffee cup. He hadn't seen Cas since that morning's very uncomfortable breakfast, which had been _hours_ ago. Maybe Cas was avoiding him, a bad habit both of them hadn't broken since they'd gotten together. He should've told Cas that Valentine's Day didn't matter to him. That all the chick-flick moments, the chocolate, and romance wasn't his thing. Except it was. A big part of him wanted expensive dinners, flowers, and candy, a night of watching stupid romcoms curled up on the couch. He knew Cas loved him and that he cared. But the fact that Cas had forgotten... 

Dean sat there sulking when Sam came in, opening and shutting cupboards and just being... _loud_. He threw a glare at the back of his brother's head. Sam turned just in time to catch it, and frowned while stuffing a granola bar in his face. "What's your deal?"

He ignored him, instead trying to melt the coffee cup with his eyes. "Where's Cas? You seen him?"

"Yeah. Couple of hours ago. He said he had to go. Mumbled something about angels needing him."

"On _Valentine's Day_?"

"I doubt angels keep a calendar of our holidays, dude." Sam studied him. "What's up with you? You seem pretty pissed. Cas forget about Valentine's Day or something?"

"What? _No_ ," Dean growled. "Mind your own business."

Sam smirked and tossed the granola bar's wrapper in the trash. "Don't give him such a hard time, okay? Pretty sure he had no idea you're such a girl for Valentine's Day."

"Fuck you. I am not."

" _Sure_." Sam clapped him on the shoulder. "Watch a chick flick or something. It'll make you feel better. Speaking of movies... I'm going out later. I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Whatever," Dean grumbled. He went back to staring at his cup.

***

Early evening and still no sign of Cas.

Fuck it.

Dean sat up on his bed, grabbed his laptop, and flipped the screen up. It glared at him, bright and angry, already signed in to his profile and everything. He should've given it more thought but didn't, and opened up a browser, clearly on a mission. Valentine's Day with Cas had been a total bust, so he'd spend it the way he had for years: jerking off to porn. He navigated to his history (he still visited his favorite sites often), and narrowed his eyes. Confused. His history tab was _full_ of websites about Valentine's Day, from _Cosmopolitan_ articles, to... _How to Get Your Man the Best Valentine's Gift_...

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to find a text from Cas.

_Dean, I need your help._

He frowned and settled back against the headboard. More angel shit, probably. On Valentine's Day. If he were an asshole, he would've ignored it, jacked off, and gone to sleep. He typed out the text— _Where_ —and sent it. Two seconds later...

 _In my room._

He immediately wondered if Cas had found another stray angel to help, one of the few still trapped on Earth after they'd settled the whole Metatron/Heaven thing. His steps were heavy as he ventured out from his bedroom and into the hall. If Cas had found another angel... Dean frowned and stopped in front of Cas' door, thought a second about knocking first, then barged in. It was dark. He couldn't see—and the smell hit him.

Apple. Cinnamon. Blueberry. _Pies_.

Roses. Lilies. Tulips.

He fumbled for the light, and when it flicked on, the room popped with _color_. Flowers were fucking _everywhere_ , in vases, in bouquets, rose petals on the bed. Pies of all flavors took up the nightstand, the desk, some of them in boxes on the floor. Stuffed animals looked cuddly and crowded the bed, boxes of chocolate anywhere they could fit. In the middle of all of it was Cas. He held porn mags and a DVD box set of Dr. Sexy, M.D. _All seasons_. 

"I hope these are adequate gifts for Valentine's Day," Cas whispered.

"Adequate? Holy shit, Cas." Dean looked around, breathless. "Where'd you get all this?"

"Three florists, two bakeries..." Cas ticked places off on his fingers. "Two grocery stores... a video—"

"This is amazing."

Cas dropped his eyes. "Dean, I'm sorry—"

"You know what? We're good. _Real_ good. _Awesome_ , in fact."

Dean grabbed his tie and pulled him close, kissing him until their lips were bruised, until they couldn't breathe. Soon, they were under the covers, skin to skin, clothes and stuffed animals on the floor. Dean mapped every inch of Cas with his mouth, kissing him, licking his nipples, sucking on them, teething them when Cas got a little too impatient. Cas' groans fueled him, the smell of flowers and pie made him drunk. 

He fumbled for the lube, slapping the nightstand with blind hands. A pie tumbled to the floor, and apple cinnamon merged with the scent of Cas' sweat. Dean nuzzled Cas' throat, nipped at it, and Cas moaned, arching his hips up to rub his hard cock against his own. With a growl, Dean mouthed an earlobe, abusing it with his tongue, his teeth, to the tune of Cas' whimpers. His fingers found the lube finally, and a generous squirt later, Cas was spread wide for him, writhing and fucking himself on a finger. Dean sucked on his nipples again. Cas called out his name, breathless and needy. Neither of them could wait anymore.

Cas whispered, "Please," and it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. A single thrust had Dean buried himself balls deep inside Cas, on the verge of coming. He caught Cas' groan with his mouth, and shuddered when Cas' body clenched around his cock. They set the rhythm, slow, agonizing, then fucked until the bed rattled and their bodies ached. Cas grabbed himself and started jacking off, and the sight alone... 

" _Fuck_."

Dean came hard and fast, Cas quick on his heels... Together, they came down from their high, in each other's arms, surrounded by flowers, chocolates, and stuffed animals. Dean rubbed Cas' shoulder, and Cas nuzzled against Dean's chest, both letting out a sigh of contentment at the same time. They shared a laugh, another kiss, then popped in the first season of Dr. Sexy. As the opening credits rolled, Dean whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day," against Cas' skin. Cas snuggled closer. "I like this holiday."

Dean tilted Cas' chin up and kissed his lips. "So do I."

"Was... today acceptable?" Cas asked hopefully.

"Best Valentine's I've ever had."

Dean held Cas tight. He swore to himself he'd never let him go.


End file.
